


Hug Your Children

by Hardlec



Category: Alternative History - Fandom, Science Fiction - Fandom, War of the Worlds - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hardlec/pseuds/Hardlec
Summary: HG Wells wrote of the Martian Invasion of 1890.  In 1910, the Martians returned.
Relationships: Based on the Game All Quiet on the Martian Front
Kudos: 2





	Hug Your Children

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Karen Lanz Dalton

Hug Your Children  
The White House, Washington DC. Theodore Roosevelt looked at the map. Again. There were no changes, no matter how much he wished there were. Ft. Riley Kansas was under Command of Adna Chaffee, Sr. Former Chief of Staff, General Chaffee had been called out of Retirement.   
Ft. Riley was more than just a permanent base. It was the main portal for refugees. It was the center of the resistance for the mid-west. One piece of a very large puzzle.  
Adna Chaffee Jr. Should be a lieutenant. He had potential, but little experience. Now he was a Colonel. He had survived, met the challenges before him.   
Roosevelt had an army of such. Men pulled from retirement. Junior officers in the role of senior officers. The Martians were winning, and he had to change that.

Old Stone Church; Constance, Kansas

Acres of land. Good soil mixed in with the Stones dumped by glaciers an eon ago. Land put to the plow, tended, nurtured. Land that became farms. Farms that sustained families. A town made from the Stones that had been ever so laboriously plucked from the soil.  
Old Stone Church. Constance, Nebraska. Near what was the Oregon Trail. The biggest building of a middle sized town, Old Stone church set the architectural tone of the area. Buildings made of stones mostly between fist sized and head sized. Tough buildings made by tough people. But, there was grace here. A beauty that came from a tranquility. Working together, the people built the town, tilled the soil, and made a life.  
A sanctuary big enough to seat 250 people. High ceilings. The windows were narrow slits that went up high. Windows of chunks of colored glass, which blended into the walls made of stone. The pews were made of wood, but set on legs of stone. The pulpit and lectern and altar were stone, but finely wrought. Simple, but beautifully proportioned. The whole building was several additions joined together. All tough as the stones they were made of.

Adna Chaffee Jr. had risen form Lieutenant to Colonel is two years. That wasn't uncommon. Those men who were in the Army when the Martian War started were either promoted or dead.   
Now he stood in front of the population of Constance, trying to get these men and women, farmers and shop-keeps and teachers and craftsmen, to learn the lessons of war. He looked over the people. Bright eyes. Concern yes, but no fear, no panic. They knew the Martians were coming their way. Chaffee was there to get them ready.

“The Martian Machines travel in threes. They sweep in, and gather what they want. They will tear apart buildings for the materials. They will capture prisoners alive. Yes, people. The Martians will keep their prisoners alive until they eat them.” The crowd gasped in horror. They all knew the Martians ate humans as livestock. It was still a shock to hear it said aloud.

Chaffee continued. “There are things we can do to slow the Martians down, or to channel them into areas where we can engage them on our terms. Now, everyone has heard you can't hurt a Tripod with a rifle.” Chaffee held up a standard issue M1903 Springfield Rifle. “This is not just a noisemaker, people. This is a weapon. A weapon that does hurt the Martians. We have cases of these, and we will issue them to citizens here. We also have much bigger guns available. These big guns can damage and even destroy tripods. We only have a few, and we don't have enough vehicles to move them. So, since we can't bring the guns to the Martians, we are going to bring the Martians to our big guns.”

“Our newest weapons are some of our best. We have these boxes that are full of rockets. They are like giant shotguns, point them at the Tripods, and some rockets will kit. The rockets can destroy Tripods, or they can weaken the tripods enough that your rifles become very effective. The real beauty of the rocket launchers is that they are plentiful. We can position them along the paths we expect the Martians to take. So the basis of our plan is to dig pits and put rocket launchers in them, and then have the Tripods come to them. The gun-pits won't get in the way of daily life, and when the Martians are gone, we can fill them in. Life can get back to normal.” Normal would be re-defined after the war. Nothing would be as it was.

Cities like Kansas City and St. Louis, and of course Ft. Riley, were ringed by gun emplacements. Steel turrets set in concrete. These emplacements were very strong. They were expensive to build and would be a part of the landscape forever. Many towns with railroads build sidings for railroad guns. Huge pieces of artillery mounted on heavily modified flatcars. There were not enough railroad guns. There were plenty of rocket launchers, and plenty of rockets.   
Quite by accident, it was discovered that if you mount the bullet backward in a cartridge, the bullet penetrated armor better. Many inventors sought better bullets for use against tripods, most to little effect. Tungsten core bullets did work, but they were expensive and only available to elite troops. Backwards bullets were becoming plentiful. No matter what the weapon, however, what made it work was the human being behind it. The town of Constance would have no tungsten core bullets, but they would have backwards bullets. They would not have artillery in armored turrets, but they would have rocket launchers. Mostly, they had their steel will, and their love for their children.

The citizens of Constance were not military, but they were warriors. Every day was a struggle. It was nothing new. James Kingsley was the mayor. He had served in the Spanish American war, and he had commanded a battery of howitzers. Today he ran the hardware store, and helped the town council run the town. Margaret Llewellyn was the principal of the school, there was only one building for all the grades. She was on the council because of her job. Elizabeth Rowen was the church organist and choir master. Her husband had been a prosperous farmer. When he died, Elizabeth took his seat. These were the three people most involved on the town council Jack Samson and Dan Reeves were also on the council. They were men of few words, but when they did speak, it was worth listening to them. Chaffee met with the council. It was a long meeting, as the people went over the details minutely.   
Over the next several days, Chaffee got to know the men and women of the council. Samson and reeves were tough men, taciturn and focused. Until their children came with food or water. Jack Samson's face lit up like a Christmas tree when his little girl come by with his lunch. Dan Reeves had twin sons. The two ten-year olds were so full of life it seemed to effervesce. When they brought their father his lunch, he turned from a somber gray cloud to a spring morning. It was easy to see what the folks worked so hard. They did it for their children.

The valley for the Constance River was broad and shallow. The river, actually a creek, was good for sport fishing but not for commerce. It was too shallow. Once farmers built crude rafts to carry harvested grain down the river to harvest, but now it was too easy to ship the grain by train. The railroad ran mostly east and west. The river ran Northwest to Southeast. The easiest way for the Martians to approach would be from the south, up the valley. The plan was to ring the town with minefields covered by rocket launcher emplacements, leaving a gap in the south. A gap for Martians to easily walk into a trap. The big 12 inch rocket launchers occupied the high ground, each big launcher was supported by six 8in launchers, each 8 inch launcher was supported by two inch launchers. The reload times on the smaller launchers were much faster. It was possible to produce a great deal of firepower from these launchers. Emplacements were very easy to build. You dug a pit big enough for the launcher. You used the dirt to create a “lunette” around the pit. By lining the bottom of the pit with stones, it was easy to get good drainage. There were lots and lots of stones. James and Jack and Dan each managed a crew of people. Margaret and Elizabeth found the sites and planted a flag. Work began and it was done very quickly. Along with the pits, The two women planted flags that were “registration” marks. These were points already sighted in by the Rocket launchers. The person calling in the fire could call fire quickly an accurately. The job no one wanted was to be an observer. Two-person foxholes with a field phone and wire back to the central switchboard. All you could do was hide. You told central where the machines were, central sent orders to the launchers. 

For the first few days, Chaffee had six teams of men helping to dig pits. He worked with the two women closely. Elizabeth was very proper, but it didn't take Chaffee much to know that she was sad. She looked very fit and spry, but she wasn't. It hurt for her to move. She tried not to show it, but Chaffee had seen it in too many old soldiers trying to fool the world, and themselves, that they weren't getting old. Elizabeth was old. She was tried. She would never quit. Margaret was also sad, but for a different reason. She was the Church organist, but arthritis had taken away her music. She still taught, but she couldn't perform. After the winter took her husband, she had no spirit. She moved automatically, going through the motions of life but not living. Chaffee had seen it before. She existed to do her duty. She had no joy in her life.

The town had a bonfire and celebrated when the last of the digging was done. Along with the Rocket launcher emplacements, they dug a system of trenches around the Old Stone Church. Chaffee and most of the Officers were there. Something all the men noticed, however, was very troubling. When a Regiment of spirited young men came to a town, however briefly, there were always romances. Young women would fall in love with young soldiers. It was natures way.  
There were no romances here in Constance. The people here acted as if there were no tomorrows. The stories were legion. Soldiers falling in love today, to die grim deaths the next. Widows outnumbered brides. No young love here. The celebration was too short. The people were proud of their work, but they feared for the future, and prayed for solace when they should be praying in gratitude. The feeling was one of doom, but also resistance. The town, and every man and woman in the town would fight as long as they drew breath. They did not see visions of the spring. Chaffee almost felt sorry for the Martians. They would find only death in Constance. The people here would mete it out in great portions.

Running south from the town was a feature called the slough. It was an easy road, with a gentle slope. Grain grew well here. At his time, however, the grain had been harvested. Acres and acres of open land. This would be the trap. Running along the slough was the berm. A long relatively steep ridge. Both the slough and the berm had been created by the glaciers that created so much of the terrain in Constance. The slough and berm combined to make terrain well suited for access to Constance. A corridor leading right to the town. At the close end of the slough was a dense minefield. Allow the Martians into a killing field surrounded by mines. Let them in. Let them come. Then kill them. Kill them all.

Erodoeht was of the scientist class. A formidable fighter, his was a position of support and guidance. Its was the job of analysis and counsel. It was good at that job. The difficulty lay in having a voice that no one had to listen to. Xi lead the group. Xi was 5,000 cycles old. It piloted a huge “Overseer” class machine. For the last hundred or so cycles, Xi relied on the enormous power of his machine and didn't care much about tactics. It just bulled in and destroyed enemies with brute force. Xi was getting careless and sloppy, but with so much brute force, it didn't matter. Erodoeht knew this. Xi was a liability.

Erodoeht was very concerned about the warrior prey who opposed its group. The leader was skilled, but more than skilled; he was smart. He was dangerous. Xi had complete contempt for the prey creatures. Many times he had simply waded into the midst of the prey's formation and blasted away. The armor of the Overseer was impenetrable to all but the biggest of the prey weapons. The weapons of the Overseer could destroy any of the prey defenses. It wasn't enough.   
Every time the race attacked the prey, the prey were different. What worked stopping the race, they used until the race learned how to defeat it. Every time the race attacked the prey, the prey had different defenses; different tactics, different traps. The prey leader that opposed the group was adept at picking the time and place of ambushes. The group lost strength as it approached the prey towns. He was a demon at constructing defenses and traps. The towns were nearly impenetrable. Then, after resources had been spent to destroy a town, there was nothing there. No prey, no salvage. Only death and destruction.   
The race knew that the prey had more resources than they did. At first, the race got all it needed by collecting the salvage the prey creatures left. Now, the prey left less and less of value. Dead bodies, twisted metal, scorched earth. Now the prey was collecting salvage. Making new weapons, and pouring their wrath upon the Race. Erodoeht knew the stakes now. There would be no winner in this war. Only the survivor. The loser, be it the prey or be it the race, would be extinct.

Xi ordered the attack on the next town. It was tired of the tentative probes made by Erodoeht. Attack. Attack swiftly. Bull through the defenses and take the town. Harvest the prey, harvest the resources. Hit now, before the prey had time to build more defenses. The Warrior prey creatures had left. They would be out scouring the countryside. The time to attack was now. Xi himself would come up the slough, while Jkyndr would come from the east with it's Dominator Tripod and the rest of the group. That timid Erodoeht would be with the group.   
“Away from me” thought Xi. “Far away from me.”

Three miles above the ground and all but invisible to anything below, John Morgan flew his Burgess Dunne Flying wing. He had no weapons, and no observer. What he had was extra fuel and a radio. The damn radio was as big as a filing cabinet. It gave General Chaffee (the father of Col. Chaffee) something he needed. Immediate knowledge of what was going on. This time, Morgan knew, both father and son were working together. There was a town called Constance. It would be bait. The regiment had moved off, leaving the town undefended. Or that's what the Martians would think. When the Martians attacked, they would walk into a trap. Col. Chaffee would slam the door shut. Morgan would watch, and report. 

Morgan to Ft. Riley, Morgan to Ft. Riley, Over.  
Ft. Riley to Morgan, Ft. Riley to Morgan. Go Ahead. Over.

Martians are on the move, Ft. Riley. Target Constance. Over.

Copy, Morgan, Stand by for Boomer. Out.

And so it began.

The Church Bells Rang. Three rings, a pause. The pattern repeated. Mayor Kingsley had set out scouts. Teenagers with telegraph keys. If they saw something, they reported, disconnected their telegraph keys and left for their next post. They reported back. The Martians were coming.

The town council was at the church. They had minutes, precious minutes, to make choices.

Margaret started. “With the Jackalopes away, we may not be able to stop the Martians. They're coming from two directions; we can't evacuate.”  
Elizabeth went on. “They have that 100 foot tall monster tripod. We weren't prepared for that. We have to use the last option.”

Mayor Kingsley went on. “I have three vests. Each one is 50 pounds of TNT and a “deadman” switch. We know the process. Someone puts on the vest. They squeeze the deadman. When the person lets go, the vest explodes. So that thing grabs the person with the vest, sweeps him into it's head, and once inside, well, the bomb goes off. Simple enough, but....”

Margaret finished. “Whoever wears the vest is blown to smithereens. Hopefully, they take that 'thing' with them. A suicide attack.  
I'll wear the vest.”

Mayor Kingsley protested. “No, it's my place ….”

“No, mayor.” Elizabeth went on. “I've had a good life. I have one last thing to give. I'll take the vest.”  
Before Elizabeth could finish, Margaret went on. “I agree. I've got the second vest. I'm not likely to survive next winter anyway. Let me do it.”

Tears streamed down the faces of everyone present. There was no argument, only acknowledgment.

“There's no time to debate. The one automobile in town is ready to take us to our pits in the Slough. I've got the third vest. Jack, you drive. Let's go. Now.”

They left in silence.

They left Elisabeth off first. They helped her get her heavy vest on, and she took her position, hidden from view. Then Margaret, a few hundred yards closer to town. In the last position went the mayor. Jack drove the empty car back to the Stone Church.

“Colonel Chaffee, we just got a signal from Ft. Riley. 'Boomer,' Sir.   
“Very Well, Mr. West. Pass the word. Lets go.”

Chaffee climbed into his command vehicle. “Fire her up, Boomer's on. Dan, set up these signal in flags.” Dan was the signalman, he looked at the signals the Colonel had prepared. “Even this one, Colonel?”   
“Yes, Dan. I know it's not regulation. But I think it works.”  
“Roger that Sir, It'll be done.”

On a command vehicle, signals were given by flags, like a ship. The signalman would arrange the flags on a line so they could quickly be raised. There were many ways to make signals from a tank. Flags were still effective. There were special flags that were a word or a phrase, like “Attack.” Other words were spelled out letter by letter. Flag was very formal.   
Communication by flag could be seen a long way off, everyone would read the flags. Slang made for confusion. Profanity was unheard of. Chaffee never swore anyway. This was most peculiar, but yeah, it worked.

The steam engine roared to life. The Jackalopes were on the move.

“Morgan to Ft. Riley”

“Go ahead, Morgan”

“Everyone is on the move. It's smart and by the book.”

“Copy Morgan. Your relief is on the tarmac. His call sign is Charley.”

Roger Ft. Riley. I'm on the move.”

“Roger. Out.”

Xi began his march up “the slough” to the town. Retreat was cut off, there was no sign of the prey warriors. It would be a big day for the race.

It was time.

Elizabeth walked out of her hiding place. She began to sing.

Open my eyes that I may see  
Glimpses of truth Thou hast for me;  
Place in my hands the wonderful key  
That shall unclasp and set me free.

Silently now I wait for Thee,  
Ready, my God, Thy will to see;  
Open my eyes, illumine me,  
Spirit Divine!

The Monster reached her.  
She shouted in a voice that could be heard above the din of a hundred foot tall Tripod

YOU WILL NOT HARM MY CHILDREN.

Faster than the human eye could follow, Xi's tendril swept her up and into his holding chamber.

Elizabeth's vision went red. Then she was gone.

Inside the hull of the giant tripod, her lifeless hand released the deadman. The charge detonated.

Confined inside it's hull, the structure of Xi's tripod was seriously damaged. Xi searched the horizon for the prey gun that had hit him, but found nothing. It went forward.

Margaret took her position. She prayed her Psalm

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.  
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.  
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.  
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.  
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.  
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

And again, in a voice that could be heard on Mars:

YOU WILL NOT HARM MY CHILDREN.

Xi swept up what it thought to be another insignificant prey creature.

With her last breath, deep in the hull of the monster, Margaret released her deadman.

The second internal explosion was even worse than the first. Xi scanned the telltales in his cockpit to see what had happened, but it was more interested in what weapon of the prey warriors had hurt the machine so severely. The sensors picked up rumbling. Prey vehicles. Big ones. The controls were locked. The second explosion had made the machine motionless, a stationary target.

Karen Lee, a 14 year old girl, left the safety of her bunker and ran to her people.

“The Army!

The Army has come!

The Army!

Chaffee's command vehicle crested the berm overlooking the slough. He hadn't planned on what he saw, but he saw enough.

“Raise the Flags, Dan.”

“Are you sure, Skipper?”

“Now more than ever, Dan. Run 'em up!”

“Roger that, Skipper.”

Four signal flags were raised on the Command vehicle. In each tank, the commanders raised a flag in acknowledgment. As one vehicle, the tank battalion crested the berm. As one, they all fired a volley.

The scream of the shells ripped open the heavens.

Thirty two 4 inch guns, 2 five inch guns and the 12 incher of the Goliath roared across the slough. The 4 shells were slowest, they would hit last; the 5 inchers would hit second; The 12 inch gun of the Goliath hit first.

The Overseer was stationary, critically wounded by Margaret's attack. It was an easy target. The 12 inch gun ripped through the armor, critically damaged by Elizabeth's attack. It exploded deep inside the tripod's hull. The tripod glowed a dull red. The rest of the shells added their lethal payload. The invulnerable overseer exploded. Shrapnel fell harmlessly on the bunkers. 

Three self-propelled guns parked in the town square. Their positions had been previously sighted in with stakes. Almost as soon as the engines were turned off, they began to fire. Above, in the Skies, Morgan was able to see the markers left for the Artillery. He called in fire. Charley arrived in his aeroplane, and he, too started calling in fire. The big guns, the rocket batteries, showed no mercy. Jkyndr's machine was destroyed. Erodoeht took command. It ordered an evacuation before the whole group was destroyed. 

Small “drone” units had reached the trenches around the Old Stone Church. When their controllers withdrew, they went inert. No matter. The townsfolk riddled them with bullets.

Colonel Chaffee ordered “no pursuit.” When the Tripods were out of range, the batteries went silent.

Erodoeht did not have the rank to rule a group. Not that Xi had left much of a group. The remnants retreated to join other groups that had been depleted since the battle of the great river.

An Awards ceremony was held by John “black jack” Pershing. There were many heroes, many medals. 

When the memorials of Margaret Llewellyn and Elizabeth Rowen were unveiled, grown men fell to their knees and wept. There were glints of tears in the eyes of Chaffee and all his command staff. 

After the memorial service, there was a reception, with dancing. Colonel Adna Chaffee smiled. He saw the young women of the town dancing with the young men of the regiment. He knew then they had won the battle.

In the town square, children played and laughed and went about the business of being children.

Erodoeht is Theodore spelled backwards... The Martian counterpart to President Roosevelt.  
The Flags? Scroll down if you want to see.

Four letters: FUKM

For the Game AQMF: Civilians are “armed” with “Forlorn Hope.” If the Martian attacks the civilian, a hit is automatic. The attack is power +4. Xi suffers a critical hit that reduces it's armor, then which causes a “critical hit” that causes the tripod to be stationary. The twelve-inch gun caused a second critical hit, this one reduced the armor to 2. The rest of the guns caused more than 3 more critical hits, which destroyed the Tripod.


End file.
